


A Kind Of Magic

by Background_Foxe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bickering, Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rituals, Top Balthazar (Supernatural), Top Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Background_Foxe/pseuds/Background_Foxe
Summary: Dean and Castiel join forces with Balthazar in an attempt to save a dying Sam from a hex-spell, however the ritual they need to perform requires some very unorthodox and freshly produced ingredientsCastiel/Dean first time fic with graphic sex, mild arguments and a bit of threesome activity which just kinda slipped in.
Relationships: Balthazar/Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 52





	A Kind Of Magic

“Sam? _Sam?!_ ” 

Was he breathing? Dean couldn’t tell. It was dark and it was cold and windy and there were noises from the environment, and Sam was so damned cold to the touch that it was as though he was already several hours dead. But he wasn’t, he couldn’t be, and Dean pressed two fingers against Sam’s neck in a desperate search for a heartbeat. The thick mud that had smeared over his skin wasn’t helping either, a cold muddy disguise in the dark.

Swearing, Dean stared up toward the car that was so close and yet so damned far; Sam was not the easiest of people to move at the best of times, let alone when he was dead weight that needed to be moved gently. The curses gained traction, and he stared back down at his lifeless brother anxiously. No, no, Sam would be fine, they’d be fine, it had to be, _had to be_.

“C’mon, Sammy, wake up,” he pleaded softly, but his words clearly weren’t making any difference whatsoever and now he was feeling the edges of panic creep in. Trouble was, he didn’t even know that the standard medicine would do much better either. This wasn’t a stab wound or a gunshot or a strangulation or any other form of typical injury, this was part hex, part curse, part fucked up weird shit, and no doctor on Earth was going to understand the chaos that was currently his little brother’s body.

Tears pricking his eyes, Dean pulled him into a hug as he tried to work out what to do. He could just feel Sam’s breathing, so very slow but at least he was still _there_ , and he stared at the car again just in case that was going to give him a hint. She didn’t. Could get Sammy anywhere, but where the fuck was he going to take him?

“Cas?” Dean appealed to the other wild card, the card that hadn’t been seen in months, the constantly distracted card, and for weeks Dean had sworn he wouldn’t buckle and give in to Castiel’s little silences. But this was different, surely? This was Sam, and Cas probably had the power to do .. well, something. _Anything_. “Cas, it’s Dean. I dunno whether you can hear this but… it’s Sam, Cas. He’s pretty bad. I can’t help him. I-,”

“What has happened?” the words were soft and low behind him, and Dean closed his eyes in relief. 

“A witch. Or, we think, anyway. There were some magic cards and a room full of shit - not actual shit,” he amended, knowing Cas’ tendencies. “Just woo-woo stuff and sparkly things and that perfume that gets up your nose and-,”

Shit, he was babbling. Stop babbling. Start helping, for fuck’s sake.

“Can we just get him out of here?” Dean was begging and he didn’t care, not now, not ever, and Castiel simply pressed a gentle hand on his shoulder as he focused on Sam’s prone body. Dean hugged Sam a little closer and looked around them just in case something worse was planning to fuck up their night further. Still couldn’t see shit in this space; it was night, any lights in this area being broken, shadows on top of shadows on top of darkness. Wasn’t even a decent surface to put him on, cold and concrete and damp, with the occasional grass growing in the cracks and the rustle of rats somewhere in the background.

“I know where we need to take him.” Castiel replied, and the words were good but his tone wasn’t quite as relaxing, and Dean was about to ask prying questions when dark suddenly switched to light and he was kneeling on a rug that had so much shag that Austin Powers would be in heaven. 

Blinking in the sudden light, Dean’s immediate action was to look for Sam but he was lying on the nearby bed, eyes still closed and a smudge of mud across one cheekbone, looking all the world like some victorian victim waiting for someone to come rescue him. Moving swiftly to drop by his side, Dean checked once more for heartbeat and breathing and found both. He almost sagged with relief, gently stroking his brother’s hair for a moment before glancing back at Castiel who hadn’t moved from his standing position by the door.

A quick assessment on the angel didn’t give him much. There was the trademark frown, but Dean could never tell whether it was a thinking expression or whether it was one of genuine concern. Or at least most of the time, anyway. He could normally tell whenever a situation had turned from a workable one into an exercise of futility, Cas’ expression clearly showing whenever he was trying to work out the best way to tell them tactfully they were fucked.

Still, that expression hadn’t turned up which he prayed meant that this was a situation that could get de-fucked if they tried. And that? That was good.

“What do we need to do?” Dean pushed himself up from his equally muddy knees and stared across at the angel expectantly. Castiel’s eyes slid toward him and then back again carefully.

“It’s a spell.” he said finally and reluctantly. Well, no kidding. 

“Okay. How do we un-spell it?” Dean was slightly happier; if a spell hadn’t immediately done its worst then there was a chance to get it removed and he was willing to do anything.

Castiel pursed his lips and said nothing, which again was not massively unusual but certainly not the most helpful thing in the world. Dean growled softly, which died down as the angel walked forward and gently placed his hands on Sam’s chest. The world glowed for a moment, as it was wont to do in Castiel’s presence.

And then, silence.

“Well?” Dean looked from Sam to Cas to Sam again, uncertain what he was supposed to be looking for.

“Mm.” 

Dean frowned. “Gonna need more detail than that, Cas.”

“I have fixed what I can.” the angel said finally.

“.... but?” God, he hated buts, or at least the verbal types. Especially if they were big. 

“I believe this particular spell will need another spell to correct it.” Castiel lifted his head and fixed Dean with a look that needed a whole book of translations. And that was probably pretty bad, based on past experience. 

Dean felt the nervousness hit, and scowled automatically. When concerned, pretend you weren’t, hide that bastard with a shit ton of anger and sprinkle some fury and rage over the top as well. He was pretty damned sure it never fooled Castiel much, especially not with the sorrowful look that the angel gave him as though he was feeling every single one of Dean’s fears and worries, but it made him feel a little less like freshly splattered roadkill.

“And you know how to do that spell, right?” Dean demanded. 

“I do not. But I have brought us to someone who would.” Castiel glanced briefly at Sam, and then drew back toward the door. “This way. He will be safe here.”

Not that Dean had any idea where ‘here’ was. He growled softly, then gently stroked his hand over Sam’s hair before pushing himself up. Perhaps this was for the best, he had never been a particularly good nursemaid at the best of times. Give him something to do. Give him something to _shoot_. And if it solved the mess, so much the better.

“So who the hell can we-,” Dean entered the next room and skidded to a halt. “Oh. Fuck, no.”

Fuck, he knew he’d recognised that taste in decor. The look coming the other way was just as appalled, before the second angel shot Castiel a weary look.

“Really, Cas? Your little shaved apes?” Balthazar huffed a soft laugh and then drained the wine glass he’d been holding. “You know I interrupted a really good orgy for this.”

“And I appreciate it.” Castiel replied, solemnly. Balthazar rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you do.” The critical look aimed itself back at Dean. “I thought you said they’d had a hex problem. He looks just as healthy as he normally does, albeit filthier than the average 80s porno. Cas, you know I love you, but if this all turns out to be the spiritual version of a verruca then I’m going to be pissed.”

“It’s Sam.” Dean interjected fiercely. Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

“Remind me-,”

“My brother,” Dean gritted it out. Oh, the angel knew damned well who Sam was, and this was already painful. The angel eyed him again.

“Oh. The younger one with the mop of hair and aspirations of being a human giraffe. I did wonder why he wasn’t here.”

“He’s in the bedroom. He’s hurt. He needs-,”

“-fixing, you do surprise me. Is there any point in your lives where one or both of you _don’t_ need fixing?” Balthazar refilled his glass without bothering with the human niceties of reaching for bottles, the glass simply turning from empty to full in a blink of an eye. 

“Are you going to fix him or not?!” Dean snapped.

“Because you ask so politely?” the angel countered, his voice still low but clearly irritated. “Look. I don’t personally care whether your darling little brother dies, and I’m always upset if Cas is upset but I’m sure he’ll get over it. Essentially, if you want me to do something, make me happy or you can just swivel on it.”

Oh, he was fucking dead-

“Dean.” That was Cas, and that was his warning voice. Dean bit back some of the curses he was planning to say and flashed Castiel a warning look. Okay, perhaps Balthazer might have the ability to do the spell but surely there was someone, _anyone_ , better?

“Balthazar. I would greatly appreciate your help in this. Sam is very important to me.” Cas spoke softly but with an intensity that Dean appreciated as the angel made a tiny step to put himself between Dean and Balthazer. The other angel eyed him carefully and clearly reluctantly before sighing softly and throwing up a hand.

“Fine. _Fine_. I’ll look at him. But I make no promises, and quite frankly your addiction to them is getting a little worrying.”

“Thank you.” Castiel clearly focused on the words he wanted to, which was a talent Dean wished he had sometimes. Personally, he wanted to deck the angel, and not in the bows of holly way, but that was probably a statement on his own problem resolution techniques. There was another little huff of a sigh and Balthazer made his way back to the bedroom.

A few minutes of assessment later and he had stood up again, a small frown on his face as Balthazar studied the still sleeping Sam.

“Mm.”

Was that some sort of Angel thing, the mm? Dean looked from the angels to Sam and then back again incredulously. C’mon, what happened to _deadlines_!? 

“So you know how to fix him, right?” Dean tried to keep the aggression out of his voice, and thankfully - kinda - his anxiety was beginning to slip through. The angel lifted his head a little, eyed Dean again, and then gave a careless shrug.

“I believe so.” Balthazar rolled the words in his mouth thoughtfully as he considered the matter. “It’ll need a few ingredients, though.” 

Dean waited but nothing else came through. “Like..? You need me to go get them?”

“That’s adorable, but no.” Balthazar had the expression of an adult suddenly being offered some food by a three year old. “I can get most of it. There is one aspect that I can’t, though. It’s part of a ritual.”

And wasn’t it always? Dean frowned again. 

“Ritual?” Cas tilted his head to one side, a cautious tone to his voice. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, we have everything we need. Just might be a little unusual, that’s all.” Balthazar was in full persuasive mode, a little flirty smile at Cas and Dean suddenly felt a whole new type of anger build up in him. That was _his_ angel. No one should be flirting with him in any shape or form and that … okay, that was a weird thing to think, but fuck it. 

He was aware of Balthazar’s amused gaze on him and bristled again. Sure, he was probably looking sulky, but this was ridiculous. And more the point, poor Sammy needed help. He needed help _now_ , and he was having to bite his tongue to stop from making a damned angel pissy.

“Can we get on with it?” Dean suddenly remembered politeness and groaned inwardly. “Please?”

The smirk hadn’t got much better and Dean was just about ready to punch the son of a bitch out. Sure, it wouldn’t have actually done anything, but it would have made him feel a little better. 

“Give me a few minutes,” he said and promptly vanished. Dean sighed through his teeth and glared at Castiel.

“Fuck, he’s an asshole.”

“He is my friend.” Castiel replied, although his voice was milder than yellow cheese, as though the angel was merely commenting on the current temperature. 

“Then your friend is an asshole.”

“I don’t believe I said he wasn’t, to be fair. But he is a friend, and he knows magic. He will come through for us, I have no doubt.”

“He’ll come through for _you_ ,” Dean amended. “He’d let Sam die if it was just me.”

“Well, as long as Sam is saved, does it make much of a difference?” Castiel was surprised. “I will not let Sam die, Dean. He is important to you.”

And that had a whole load of implications of what they’d be doing if Dean didn’t find his brother important, but Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to enter that rabbit hole. He sighed and crouched down again next to Sam’s side, checking his temperature for no other reason than he didn’t know what else to do, and taking solace in the simple way that Sam’s chest rose and fell with each breath. Keep breathing, Sammy. It would be fine. He’d make it fine, he promised.

The hand on his shoulder was unexpected but welcome, a warmth against his skin and Dean found himself relaxing against it. Hated to admit it, but in the past it had always been these times when he felt the most alone, when Sam wasn’t there to talk to and a look around only found the emptiness looking back. 

Now? Now Castiel filled this gap, but filled it in a way that Dean didn’t even understand. Cas wasn’t just a friend, but a confidant and a symbol, and if it had been anyone else then he’d really be searching his soul on what the hell he was doing. Hell, Cas was almost the little voice in his head made solid and there was always a void whenever he wasn’t around. Which was, quite frankly, pathetic when he thought of it like that. Couldn’t stop it, wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it, but still, pathetic.

But that was all almost immaterial. Right here, right now, Sam was his priority, and yet it still felt completely out of his hands.

“He’s okay, right? This whole thing, it’s not some ticking clock where his insides are slowly getting eaten up?” Dean spoke softly. The hand paused and then gave a little squeeze.

“He will suffer no ill-effects as long as he is returned within a few days.” Cas’ voice was almost as soft, but it was the soft, determined voice of one who truly believed in what he was saying and that was as much of a relief as the hand on his shoulder. Dean could use some confidence right about now.

“So what is it? And don’t say ‘a spell’. I know it’s a spell. _What_ spell?”

There was a very long hesitation on that. Dean paused, and then squinted over his shoulder suspiciously.

“What aren’t you telling me? Because either you don’t know what it is, and you’re making up the bit ‘bout Sam being fine for a few days, or you do know what it is and you don’t want to tell me.” he scanned the cautious expression of Castiel, frowning slightly at the look. “So..?”

“I know which one it is. I would prefer not to say.”

Well, that made no sense. “Why?”

“Because.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“To be honest, most reasons tend to boil down to ‘because’ in some form or other.” Castiel looked back at him and then sighed. “Dean, it would not help your current mood.”

That made even less sense. “Why not?”

“Does he ever stop asking annoying questions?” That was Balthazar, back from whatever fucked up shopping trip he’d been on, a cigarette in his mouth, another glass of some type of alcohol in his hand and his shirt already half unbuttoned. A lazy, half crooked grin aimed itself at Dean. “S’like some young kid suddenly finding out about the universe. Why, why, why.. ,”

“Fuck off.”

“Is that any way to talk to your brother’s saviour?” Balthazar replied reproachfully, then chuckled softly again as he finished his drink and stubbed the cigarette out in it. “Right. I have the items. Cas, you and your boy want to come out to the main room? We can get boogie-ing.” 

Dean took another look at the innocently sleeping Sam, gently moved a hair strand from his brother’s eyes and then pressed a light kiss to Sam’s forehead. Right. It would be okay. It had to be.

Pushing himself up from his knees, Dean shot said ‘saviour’ an unimpressed glare as he moved into the main room and paused at the decorative circle in the middle of the floor. Candles had been set up in various places, with a few items perched on a nearby table. The whole thing was made even more surreal by the presence of a low disco ball that was lazily spinning, sending shards of light into the dimness of the room. 

“Funky magic,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“Which, as everyone knows, is the best kind of magic,” Balthazar replied idly as he entered the room and stretched his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s see.”

His gaze looked down at Dean critically and then across to Castiel with a similar look of resignation. There was a soft sigh.

“Would it kill you both to.. I don’t know, mix it up a little with your clothing?”

“What?” Dean looked down at himself. Okay, he was muddy, but who cared? “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Oh, please. _You_ look like you’ve randomly stolen some farmer’s washing.” Balthazar glanced across to Castiel. “And _you_ seem to be permanently glued to that coat.”

“The coat does come off,” Castiel replied.

“Well, that’s something at least.” The angel moved to the centre and lit a few more candles, murmuring under his breath briefly before picking up a nearby bowl and studying it carefully. It was, essentially, a bowl. Wooden, probably hand carved based on the wobbliness of the surface, and with a few things carved on the outside. Pretty ordinary, as bowls went, but Dean didn’t quite trust the look that Balthazar gave Castiel afterward. Wasn’t a dangerous or scheming look but one that was a little wary, the type a friend would give if they were worried, and what the hell did this ritual need anyway? 

“Let me guess,” Dean said, and his voice was rough. “Needs some blood, doesn’t it?”

It was always blood. Demons must have a special bulk buy order on stain remover. But how much blood? Normally it was just a slice and a small amount, but by the way that Balthazar was looking at Castiel, Dean was suddenly uncertain whether this wouldn’t need someone to drain dry. Apparently Cas was having a similar thought as his head raised and eyes narrowed.

“Balthazar?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Well, it needs fluid, and particular fluid. Just not blood.” he looked expectantly at Castiel, whose expression hadn’t got much better. Dean looked between them and waited. And still waited. And - oh, fuck it.

“... _and_?” he pressed. “Which fluid did you want?”

“This is a love spell.”

Dean hesitated and then pulled a face. “Wait, what?”

“A love spell,” Balthazar repeated, as patiently as he could manage. “So the fluid has to be ..ah, let’s say _corresponding_.”

There was a longer pause and then Dean shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re going on about. This is a violent spell that is trying to kill my brother!”

“Well, yes. Love. Violent, messy, screaming, fixation, dark obsessions, you wouldn’t believe how many horrendous things are done due to love.. Wait.” Balthazar turned to Castiel in genuine delight. “Does your boy really believe in the sweet Disney version of love?”

Dean scowled hard. “Fuck off.”

“Seriously, that is very sweet.” the angel chuckled in delight. Castiel raised his head a little more, a harder look in his eyes as he stared back at his fellow angel.

“Balthazar, I appreciate your help in this but if you continue to taunt Dean then I will be upset.” 

There was a silence as they looked at each other before Balthazar held up his hands as though in surrender and chuckled softly again. 

“Okay, fine, have your pet back. But I still need the fluid, and that has to be between a pair who… mm, let’s say _have a connection_ , shall we? Like you two.” Another hand gesture, this time aimed toward Castiel and Dean. 

There was another short silence. Dean licked his lips carefully, and then leaned forward.

“Are you suggesting-,”

“Fuck sake, I’m not suggesting anything. If you and Cas here want your darling brother up and running then the spell to break the other spell will require you and Cas here to have some type of physical loving session - or fuck, as it’s otherwise known - in the middle of this,” a quick stamp on the little circle decoration in the center of the room. “And your come - and it has to be _your_ come, human only - collected in that darker bowl there. Is that clear enough for you?”

“I see.” Castiel spoke first.

“Oh.” said Dean.

And there was another small silence as they reassessed their current reality. 

“So if you don’t mind, get stripped, stand in the circle, I’ll set the cantrips and then you’ve got about half an hour to come.” Balthazar looked faintly impatient, looking between them. 

“And you can’t do this in your orgies why, exactly?” Dean felt his throat going a little dry. The angel rolled his eyes.

“The spell needs something genuinely loving. Mine are more pleasure based only.” Another sly smile, creeping at the corner of the angel’s mouth. “And are you really trying to tell me that you two don’t fall into the romantic category? Please.”

Well, okay then. That was a thing. And he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to peer into the truth for fear of what he might find. Was it right? There was a churning in his stomach to suggest the angel had a point, and yet he felt far too vulnerable to admit that. They were friends. Really close friends. Really, _really_ close friends, and okay, he was screwed.

There was still silence from Castiel’s side and Dean wasn’t sure whether he risked looking at him either. What the hell was worse? Disgust or interest? He licked his lips again and looked down at himself, finally beginning to slowly take off his jacket before there was another little huff of annoyance and a click of fingers. Things suddenly got a whole lot draughtier as his clothes vanished.

“Holy fuck..!” 

“Technically, yes. Get with the programme, sweetheart.” Balthazar drawled, and Dean was conscious of the angel’s gaze down his now fully naked body. Balthazar raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Castiel. “Okay. I can see the appeal. Gag him and it would be better.”

“Actually, I like his voice.” and that was Cas, finally, and Dean almost thanked god if it wasn’t for the fact that prayer would probably be picked up by the current angels. 

Balthazar made a soft noise of dismissal and prowled further around the darkened circle in order to light a couple more red candles in the corner. Dean slowly stood in the circle and kept his back straight, still keeping his gaze away from Castiel for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure about. Sure, he could keep pretending that it was simply respect for his friend, but it didn’t take much soul searching to know that was absolute bullshit. 

“You look like you’re about to be sacrificed,” another amused tone from Balthazar. “Loosen up, love, you’ll enjoy it more.”

Dean growled in his general direction. “Do you need to be here?”

“This is a spell, not a speed dating thing.” the angel commented. “Unless either of you two want to become the lead caster, I’d suggest keeping that sulky little mouth of yours shut. Well, for words, anyway. Other tasks may vary.”

Dean’s hands clenched a little tighter with the soft growl continuing in his throat, and this was better, he could focus all his uncertainty into the very real certainty that he really wanted to wipe that smug look off Balthazar’s face and what the fuck was it with angels and generally being pompous asses-

-Cas’ hand on his shoulder turned that thought very firmly back onto their circumstance. Dean slowly found his fists unclenching, his shoulders falling back under Cas’ warmth. And Cas _was_ warm, regardless of where he was, like an angel shaped hot water bottle that should be grabbed and hugged under a blanket at times of unease. Dean finally risked a sideways look, a small, nervous glance like a dog trying not to eye up a plate of biscuits for fear of being told off, and discovered that his own nudity issue was not confined to him alone.

Technically, Castiel wasn’t talking but Dean didn’t really need him to. He was close, _really_ close, and he could almost feel electricity crackle as he turned a little more to face him. The hand on his shoulder was still there, a warm, friendly touch that didn’t quite match the intense look in vivid blue eyes as Cas seemed to stare into his soul. They were so close that Dean couldn’t really see the rest of Castiel’s body but the skin he could see was talking to him in ways that quite frankly confused the fuck out of him. Since when did seeing a guy’s upper body cause that type of physical reaction to burn through him? Cas was almost golden, especially in this light, the shadows and light playing prettily over his skin and sending new magical light in his eyes, and Dean found his throat growing drier again.

Half of him was expecting Balthazar to speak up and ruin things but the other angel was silent in whatever darkened corner he’d taken himself to, and there were no distractions on offer as Cas gently cupped Dean’s chin with a feather light touch as they stared silently at each other for what felt like years.

And finally, _finally_ , Cas leaned forward and pressed a soft, warm kiss onto his mouth. The electricity reached a whole new Pikachu level, and Dean felt rather than heard himself gasp as the touch sent a shiver down his spine to add to the growing heat in his groin. 

Okay. That was good. That was really good, and although this might be a gateway to god knows where, right now he didn’t really care. Dean leaned forward a little more, his lips meeting Cas’ again and felt a spark of insanely intense need as Castiel accepted the kiss and deepened it a little further. He was faintly conscious of Cas’ hands sliding over his waist and one creeping down to his ass, and he probably should have been doing the same back but his body seemed to be completely frozen in shock. Somehow it also felt right. Normally it was him taking the lead, pushing the boundaries, but right now Dean was happy for Cas to take over and that probably would be embarrassing if he bothered to think about it.

Probably best not to think about anything at all. Just feel. Just touch. 

Dean growled softly in the back of his throat, but it was the helpless noise of one who was in a trap and couldn’t free himself even if he wanted to. Cas still hadn’t moved away from his intense look, a solid stare that cut straight through to fuel Dean’s need and ruined any form of communication he possessed as he stared back, the fly caught by the particularly seductive spider.

Dean was aware of soft chanting in the background, the occasional familiar latin word showing up every so often, but it was of no more concern to him than background diner music. The hand on Dean’s ass tightened a little as Castiel began to explore, Dean leaning forward into the embrace and still scanning Cas’ eyes as though searching for a fear that the whole thing was a joke. But no, Cas was all but radiating sincerity and Dean slowly allowed himself to respond in the manner his body was demanding.

And it demanded a lot. 

Standing wasn’t cutting it any more, but the circle didn’t have a damned bed in it so in the end they sank down to their knees, bodies still aligned and a new kiss deepening as they did so. One of Cas’ hands had made it to Dean’s head, running fingers through his short hair as Dean’s own hands had snuck around the angel’s back and pulled him as close as physically possible without possession getting involved. 

And this felt right. This felt good. This felt _natural_.

He had no idea how much time had passed but eventually they broke, both breathless and flushed, scanning each other’s eyes intensely as though trying to read war secrets. In a way he guessed they were. He could still hear Balthazar keeping up his soft, gentle chanting, and if the angel was going to continue that for the whole session then he was probably going to have one hell of a sore throat at the end of it. Still, it was nice. Not distracting, not weird, just .. nice. Fuck knows what it was actually doing, of course. Probably causing chaos, or turning the furniture into frogs or whatever. Rituals were weird.

Still, frogs be damned right about now. Castiel was still damned intense as well, a hunger in the angel’s eyes that Dean wasn’t sure whether to bow down to. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words to say, a silent plea transmitting instead which he was relieved to discover that Cas could decipher. A few moments later and Cas had guided him down to lie on the floor, the surface cool against the heat of his skin and the angel leaning over him like a lion over its prey.

Swallowing, Dean allowed his head to rest back against the surface as Cas dipped his head to press a couple of light kisses across his chest, his tongue flickering over a nipple briefly before beginning to suckle on it. Dean made a soft helpless noise, his eyes closing as he desperately tried to cool his body off. The ache deep within him was so fierce that it was damned hard to specify whether it was pleasure or pain, and any gentle nudge or brush from Castiel against his groin merely added to the burden.

His willpower was due to be sorely tested; Cas’ mouth was still on his nipple but one hand was stroking between Dean’s legs, a small squeeze at first before a cautious but straight forward stroking movement that god near made him howl. Everything seemed super-charged, each touch sending a lightning bolt through his nerves in a clear attempt to drive him insane. 

Whining softly again, Dean bit his lip and tried to count backward just in case he came immediately. Cas’ tongue was indecent, and where the hell had the angel picked up his handling techniques? There had been no hesitation, Castiel finding a rhythm damned quickly and Dean made another pleading noise at the back of his throat that wasn’t even sure what it was asking for.

He was half aware of the chanting slowing but it was definitely chalked up against the ‘didn’t give a fuck’ list. Dean’s fingertips tried to find purchase on an unforgiving smooth surface as Cas’ fingers stroked over the painfully sensitive tip of his cock before moving back to his original strokes, or, as Dean viewed it, turning his insides into heated jello. 

Dean cracked his eyes open slightly as his nipple was abandoned and a soft murmur sounded, only to find Balthazar murmuring something into Cas’ ear. The light flickered across the angel’s dirty blonde hair, for a moment forming what appeared to be a very incorrect halo, before said angel gave him a careless glance. 

“Would it kill you to have a few cushions?” Dean managed to get his breathing to allow at least one sentence. The corner of Balthazar’s mouth curled upward in amusement.

“Appreciate the decor tips but the ritual is very clear on what needs to happen, pumpkin.” Balthazar’s hand drifted over Castiel’s shoulder lightly and clearly affectionately, and Dean suddenly realised he and Castiel weren’t the only ones with a lack of clothes. His eyes opened a little wider, glancing at Cas for some reassurance that this wasn’t going to end up as a strange angel threeway and not having a huge amount of success penetrating the intensive look. 

Balthazar was significantly better at reading humans, which was just as well. 

“Don’t wet yourself, I’m not going to touch you.” he advised. Dean bristled slightly but felt a little more relieved, slowly relaxing back against the floor and watching Cas as his hand slipped down to gently caress Dean’s balls with the same confident movements as before. Balthazar was still present, both hands now on Cas’ shoulders like a particularly dedicated massage, but oddly Dean couldn’t get himself too worked up over it. As long as the other angel was over there and he was down here, things would be okay. 

Cas seemed to enjoy the touch, his eyes closing briefly in clear relaxation for a moment. Balthazar was still murmuring softly in his ear but for whatever reason it felt unthreatening, a small smile playing on Castiel’s lips before the angel opened his eyes and fixed Dean with a look so hungry that the Big Bad Wolf could probably get lessons. 

An already painfully hard groin throbbed harder, Dean biting his own lip as he gazed back. He had no idea what the hell Balthazar was telling him but currently he wouldn’t be surprised if it was some sort of angel porn designed to rile him up. Were there specialist moves that really got angels going? Who knew. 

“Cas. C’mon,” Dean fixed him with a defiant look, his hips shifting slightly in what he hoped was invitation. Cas’ eyes seemed to darken, the intensity finding a whole new level to reach and for a moment Dean had a paranoid panic that he’d accidentally managed to offend him in some way despite their current positions being naked on a rune decorated floor. 

And then Cas pounced, and that fear was put to bed. As was he, in a way.

Castiel was leaning over him, their faces inches away as the angel’s body pressed against Dean’s in all the right places. Dean huffed a soft laugh and shifted his body again, wrapping his legs around Castiel’s hips and squeezing slightly into the meat of his ass as he offered a cocky half grin for daring to assume such impunity. 

The cocky grin suffered a hitch as Cas deliberately ground his hips against Dean’s, a flash of pure pleasure running through him and Dean gasped aloud. One hand draped over Cas’s back loosely, Dean offering a helpless look back.

“Are you willing?” Castiel breathed softly. Dean almost laughed. Or cried. Or something wet, anyway.

“For fuck’s..,” Dean caught himself before he accidentally said something that Cas would take as negative, then grinned. “Yeah. I’m willing. Sign me up.”

Castiel looked confused.

“He means ‘fuck the hell out of him’,” Balthazar offered from the rear.

“Ah. A novel way to remove hell, but we must attempt all options,” Castiel replied solemnly, then smiled and leaned down to press another couple of kisses against Dean’s neck. Oh, and who the hell had taught him how to do that? The sensation was fantastic, the soft breaths in his ear, the scratch of stubble, all conspiring to drown him in need. And then Cas lifted his weight to get going, and fuck, that sounded so awesome it could have had its own tv channel.

His hips lifted almost of their own accord, Dean groaning weakly as Cas shifted his weight to line up and then suddenly realising that a plunge might not be the smoothest ride. He was about to query whether a bit of spit wasn’t a possibility when he suddenly realised that his lower half was feeling… odd. 

Confused, Dean glanced up only to find Balthazar’s amused expression over Castiel’s shoulder. 

“It’s amazing what you can have spells for,” the angel commented softly, and Dean slowly came to the realisation that apparently the angel had managed to magic up - or miracle up, who knew - lube in just the right place. Pre-oiled, as it were. And from the look in Cas’ eyes, he was fully aware of what his angel brother was planning. Sneaky.

At any other time he’d probably have raged a bit about that, but here and now he merely grinned and lifted his hips a little higher, an invitation that the angel was happy to take. Their gazes met again as Castiel lined up and Dean felt the broad tip of the angel’s cock against his hole, questioning, confirming, confident. 

All was good and yet he still couldn’t stop the soft hiss of sensation as Castiel slowly began to push into him; he might be pre-oiled but his body was still tight and not used to strangers. Dean made a soft noise and allowed his head to fall back gently, legs still wrapped around him but loosely to allow the angel the ability to move. Sure, Cas was pretty damned solid and his body needed adjusting but the need overcame the sensible and Dean whine-growled his opinion about rests and waiting and patience. 

They were a damned good fit. He felt full to bursting, pleasure mixed with pain, and Dean whined again sulkily at the distinct lack of action. Still, the view had its own benefits. Cas’ expression was just as intense as ever but there was a light tremble through his body and the clear look of someone fighting against his natural inclinations to just plough in. The lights and the weird disco ball only added to the glow, illustrating Castiel’s form so well it was like an artist had designed it, which given Balthazar’s presence it probably had been. 

Speaking of the other angel, Balthazar wasn’t on pause either. Dean wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, but every so often there were more whispers, more flashes in Castiel’s eyes, Balthazar’s arm wrapped around Cas’ chest to keep them together as he did so. Yeah, his money was definitely on some type of dirty talk, and whatever it was seemed to be pressing Cas’ buttons and probably pulling a few levers as well. 

Well, he felt a little ignored, and that, of course, could happily be rectified. 

Waiting until Cas’ length was deep inside him, Dean squeezed harder with his internal muscles as a bit of a silent prompt. And that worked well. Cas’ eyes closed briefly, the strain showing so very clearly before he opened his eyes again and offered him a growl that was primeval in nature. Dean merely offered a cocky grin back, which was probably unwise but definitely worth it. 

Balthazar looked confused for a moment before glancing at Dean and giving him a rueful smile.

“Well, well. Aren’t you spunky.” Another half smile and Balthazar pressed a kiss to Castiel’s neck before withdrawing enough to allow his angel brother to move. Dean was about to respond when Castiel’s movements stole any words he was planning to make, slow at first but growing in strength and intensity as the angel gripped his hips harder. 

Ah, fuck.

Dean whined softly again under the onslaught, finding the rhythm well enough to move with him but almost dazed by the sheer force inside him that was managing to find sensitive spots he didn’t even know he owned. Silence was impossible, each thrust greeted by a soft gasp-grunt as Castiel worked, and each sensation seemed to blur into each other until it took all his strength not to howl. 

Although his strength was good enough to stop rogue howls, it was having more difficulty when it came to his growing need, a painful throb throughout him that kept building at each hard thrust. Dean bit his lip hard and found it wanting as a technique to keep his body under control. But he couldn’t, had to keep going but man, it was hard, and looking up at Cas wasn’t helping matters either. He’d thought the man attractive before, albeit in the privacy of his own head and not to be repeated. Now, with a faint sheen of sweat on his brow and a vivid blue gaze that could give Superman’s lasers a run for their money, he was pretty much irresistible. 

A small shift of movement and the howl found its mark as thrust met up with a bundle of nerves deep inside him, his back arching, eyes widening and one hand scrabbling fruitlessly on the ground as he tried to recover. Wasn’t working though, and he shuddered against the next thrust only to blink in surprise and loss as Castiel pulled out entirely.

“....wha..?” He knew he was wide eyed but he didn’t care. Where was his angel?

“Dean.” Cas’ familiar deep, rough voice and Dean almost came from that alone. “Roll over.” 

Dean stared at him for a moment before moving his dazed and confused eyes onto the bowl that was sitting nearby. Oh. Right. Yeah. Stuff. Moving stiffly, he rolled over onto his stomach, and then pushed himself up onto hands and knees. He glanced over his shoulder only to discover that Balthazar was pressed up against Castiel’s back again, his mouth dangerously close to Cas’ ear as he whispered whatever scheme they had, and Dean bristled slightly at this.

“Guys. Ready and waiting.” he waggled his ass a little pointedly. “C’mon!”

The little swallow that Cas made was kinda worth it. Not _much_ , but slightly. And yeah, he could get used to that hungry look in his angel’s eyes, especially as he moved so damned quickly to line himself up against Dean’s already battered hole and push straight the way in. Dean lost his breath again, widening his thighs and trying to regain his breathing as Cas found a whole new level of speed to work at.

“...fuck…,” Dean tried not to say anything at all but the gasp couldn’t be held back, allowing his head to dangling slightly as he tried to focus on anything other than the angel sliding his hard, thick cock deep inside him, over and over again, so hard and confidently that he was amazed his limbs could hold him. Every so often he caught that little spot of nerves inside, a flash of electrical pleasure-agony to add to his growing release, and Dean bit back a growl-howl again.

“You are allowed to make noises, you know.” Balthazar had finally moved from his position behind Castiel, having prowled across to Dean’s front in a cat-like manner on hands and knees. Sitting again, the angel lifted a hand and gently stroked his fingers down Dean’s stubbled cheek, ignoring the desperate anger that Dean glared at him. “I’m serious. No neighbours, no witnesses. Noise is good. Noise is _worship_.”

Dean snorted laughter at that. Yeah, take him to church. And sure, there might not be witnesses but he couldn’t do it, and he made a small shake of his head to shut down the conversation. Or at least that was the plan, but Balthazar apparently was not one to take hints well. His fingers were still on Dean’s cheek and Dean wanted nothing so much as to bite them, and bite them hard, only he wasn’t entirely sure that was true anymore, and he growl-whined in frustration and need again.

“There’s a good little pet,” Balthazar breathed, fingers still stroking over Dean’s face as Castiel continued his steady, deep, feel-it-in-the-bones thrusts and his fingers dug into the meat of Dean’s hips, and Dean deliberately nipped at the finger that stroked feather light across his lips. Balthazar chuckled in amusement, keeping his finger caught in Dean’s teeth, and met Dean’s gaze in an uncomfortably knowing way.

“Want to suck on my finger, boy?” he murmured, eyes playful. “Or is that just going to be a placeholder for something else?”

He didn’t even know how that could be both arousing and revolting at the same time but apparently it achieved it. And worse? Right here, right now, the angel’s suggestion was embarrassingly accurate. Dean growled softly, still not letting the finger go, glaring at the angel as though dropping eye contact might in some way be a note of surrender. 

There was another thrust from Cas, deeper and harder and man, hitting that sweet, sweet spot and fuck, this wasn’t fair, they were clearly ganging up on him. Dean whined against the finger, unable to stop the glare turning into something more pleading, and Balthazar’s smile grew gentler. Dean finally released him, a gasp of air as he did so and feeling like someone had beaten him over the head with a baseball bat. His need was so large it was god near overwhelming but it was reaching a point and not going any further, and Dean whined again in confusion. Had to come, he _really_ had to come, but it just stayed there as though caught in a trap.

Another thrust, harder, deeper, and Dean cried out weakly. Oh god, he couldn’t continue this, he had to come, and he reached down to stroke himself only to find Cas pausing to gently smack his hand away.

“No.”

“... what…?” Dean’s voice was supposed to be strong and masterful and ended up being a soft whimper of pleading. “C’mon. Please.”

“Dean, I need you to be strong.”

“Cas, I need me to come. _Please_.” he didn’t care that Balthazar was just in front of them, watching, he just needed this. Needed it _now_ , and Dean glanced over his shoulder in what should have been a glare and instead resulted in the most puppy dog expression he’d ever pulled in his life. A look, apparently, that Castiel was finding it really hard to resist based on the slightly haunted longing look in the angel’s blue eyes. 

“Cassy.” That was Balthazar, a little warning tone. Castiel swallowed and straightened his shoulder, giving a little shake of his head in answer.

“Just a little longer, Dean.”

“Gonna explode. Please let me explode. I wanna explode.” Dean’s head dropped again, his legs widening again and all but impaling himself on the cock each time, gripping it as much as he could with his internal muscles and hearing Cas gasp as he did so. Well, it seemed only fair to share the agony, as long as he was fucking alive to enjoy it, and if this carried on Dean wasn’t sure whether he would be.

Whining again loudly, Dean made another gasp-groan noise of need.

“Cas, please! I just want to touch myself, please, I’ve been good-,”

From the little trembles he could feel and the way Cas tensed against him, apparently pleading was really hitting the angel’s good spots and Dean grinned to himself. Now that he could do, and fuck the fact that Balthazar was there, he wanted this and he needed this and fuck, he was willing to do pretty much anything. He tried to move his leg slightly in a vague attempt to brush his aching cock against his thigh but that only resulted in a sharp slap to his ass cheek. Really?! They clearly wanted him to melt into a puddle of human goo.

“Castiel, please, m’begging you.” And he really was, this wasn’t a game anymore. Dean opened his eyes and stared upward at Balthazar in front of him again, still dazed but with a growing need to do _something_ , and what the fuck was the angel hanging around for anyway? Dean licked his lips and tried fixing him with a defiant glare but something wasn’t quite right and man, he didn’t know what he should be doing. He cried out again, softly, desperately, hands curled into fists on the floor, and didn’t flinch as Balthazar ran the ball of his thumb lightly across Dean’s lips again.

“Want to be a good boy?” purred the angel softly, although at least the tone leaned toward the curious rather than the mocking. Dean panted softly, his eyes a mix of deadly and desperate and a tremble that had set in his body so firmly that Dean wasn’t sure whether it was going to be permanent. He could already feel the flush of warmth to his cheeks, and man, the ache in his body was so bad that multiple things that would ordinarily be insane to contemplate were suddenly feeling feasible. 

The thumb continued to stroke across his lips curiously, a fishing lure waiting to see whether the fish would bite. Dean snarled, eyes flashing angrily, but they both knew that was pretty much toothless. If anything, Balthazar probably knew him all too well, both coming to sex with a very similar mindset, and that wasn’t a fun thing to consider at the best of times. Balthazar was still a jerk, though. On the other hand, Dean wasn’t sure whether that was enough to stop it. 

“Balthazar,” Cas’ voice behind him, rough and faintly breathless but definitely a warning. There was a soft noise of amusement from the angel in question.

“It’s okay, Cas. Not gonna hurt him.”

“Stop trying to force him.” Castiel growled softly and irritably. 

“Force him? Please. He’s a big boy, he can work out what he wants to do.” Balthazar looked back at Dean thoughtfully, and ran his thumb lightly over Dean’s lips again. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Conflicted, Dean scowled at him again. Balthazar smiled lightly, then glanced up toward Cas who had slowed in his thrusts. A small smile aimed itself at Castiel, clearly trying to make peace.

“Don’t worry. He’s still yours. Look at him, so desperate to be loyal despite his base instincts.”

Dean growled again. Need he could cope with. Base instincts sounded National Geographic level. 

“You’re a fucking bastard.” Even he could hear that the usual teeth just weren’t in it.

“Never said I wasn’t.” Balthazar smiled again gently and stroked Dean’s cheek delicately, before glancing up at Castiel again carefully.

“You know the situation, Cas. You don’t want me to continue then I won’t, I promise,” he said softly. Castiel growled and Dean jumped a little as Cas’ nails dug harder into the skin of his hips, a little blast of pain that mixed happily with the agony and found a new way to increase. He liked that too? Awesome. Full on pervert, him.

He never thought he’d say he was suffering from this situation but Dean was rapidly coming to the conclusion that this was a whole new level of torture that was both glorious and desperate at the same time. His glare had devolved into a softer, pleading route, not sure why they’d stopped him from finding his release but knowing he was no longer in charge of it. Balthazar glanced carelessly at him again and began to stroke his fingers across Dean’s cheek and along his jawline again. 

“Fine.” Castiel growled, and there was a mark of possession in that word, a threat that suggested that any movements outside of the agreed touches were open to retaliation. Balthazar tilted his head in acknowledgement before turning his attention back to the still desperate Dean in front of him.

“Shall we?” he murmured, the thumb back on Dean’s lips but this time gently pushing a little to indicate that Dean needed to open his mouth. Another flash of defiance from Dean, but his body was trembling badly now, his need so powerful that he couldn’t think of much else, and he slowly, reluctantly, opened his mouth a little to allow the digit to slip into his mouth.

For a moment he simply held it lightly with his teeth, eyes holding steady with Balthazar in warning that, despite appearances, this did not mean anything important, before he finally released his hold and began to slowly and carefully suckle on the thumb. Felt weird and yet didn’t, his body apparently delighted to have something else to do in his craving, and caution slowly fell away as Dean put more effort into worshipping said thumb with his tongue and mouth. He flinched slightly as Balthazar rested his other hand on Dean’s head, gently running the strands of his short hair through his fingers, but soon grew used to the closeness of the angel as he focused on his task.

It was clear from the first few thrusts that Cas wasn’t as happy, harder and sharper thrusts deep in him that forced a few soft grunts in the back of Dean’s throat, but his own angel slowly began to get used to the concept as the jerkier, harder thrusts settled down again to the powerful rhythm that vibrated in his core. 

Didn’t take him long before he realised that the thumb just wasn’t enough, and Dean felt a flush of embarrassment creep to his face at that thought. Thumb was good and it was clearly a turn on for the angel in front of him, but it was smaller and unable to fully appreciate the work he was doing. Still, the alternative was .. well, it wasn’t something he wanted to admit wanting, and Cas would freak. Hell, _he_ would freak.

Didn’t stop him wanting it. Didn’t stop him hating himself for wanting it, either. 

Balthazar looked thoughtful as Dean looked away from him in embarrassment, and then looked up at Cas again in silent query. Dean let out a soft cry of pain-pleasure as Castiel’s next thrust was powerful enough to shove him forward, a beautiful and yet agonising thrust, and his bewildered eyes looked back at Balthazar in dazed confusion on what just happened. 

“I know.” Cas growled softly. “And yes.”

There was a look on Balthazar’s face that suggested that he wasn’t entirely convinced but was willing to overlook it given the circumstances. Balthazar gently extracted his thumb and settled on his knees in front of him, waiting until Dean had finally found the balls to look at him before raising an eyebrow in question.

Dean’s lip curled again angrily, although not knowing what the hell he was aiming that to. The situation, possibly. He was also aware of Cas slowing his thrusts down, waiting, allowing him more movement, and Dean found his mouth growing drier which really wasn’t going to help in the long run.

Helplessly he looked back up at Balthazar only to find another small, warm smile coming the other way. The angel’s hand gently played through his hair.

“S’okay, sweetheart. Up to you. Take your time.”

And fuck, he hated being babied. Growling softly, he cast another look over his shoulder as best he could to check Cas’ expression but short of really wrenching his shoulder he couldn’t properly get a good look. Still, Castiel’s nails were no longer buried in his skin, instead a warm stroke of hand over his ass and side that made him tremble. Okay. Apparently Cas was kinda on board with it, and Dean no longer knew what the hell they wanted in this ritual. Pretty sure he knew what they wanted here and now, though.

Licking his lips again, he glanced at Balthazar almost in warning - this was not to be discussed afterwards for fear of whatever supernatural creature was the scariest - before dropping down to lean on his forearms and slowly, carefully, sliding the tip of the angel’s erection into his mouth. He tasted like honey, honest to god honey, and that was just fucked up. Did Cas taste the same? Was this an angel thing? Didn’t know. Wanted to know, though. Really, _really_ did, but that was an embarrassment for another time. 

His mouth worked steadily and without much fuss. It was almost too easy to get into a rhythm, sucking, licking, taking him deeper every so often but not intending to go for tonsil attacks as Dean continued his activities. Every so often he had to break off in order to pant for more oxygen, the thrusts deep in his body refusing to let him focus on his work, and Dean groaned helplessly at that. After a while he even allowed his groans to occur while he was still suckling Balthazar, the vibrations neatly transferring themselves to the angel’s cock and delivering a satisfied moan of its own.

Dean didn’t know how long they continued for but he could feel Castiel slowing behind him as the angel clearly struggled to contain his own release, and Balthazar seemed lost in his own world. Balthazar’s hand tightened in his hair, his body trembling and tense, and Dean all but jumped on this weakness. 

“Cas.” Balthazar spoke finally with a strained voice, and Dean was about to ask what was going on when he felt Cas grip him tighter, one final, deep and hard thrust in him and his angel stopped dead, tense for a moment before shuddering against him as he came. This apparently was the cue, as Balthazar came next, Dean unable to pull away as the hot, sweet come flooded his mouth and was swallowed just as quickly as the most practical way to get rid of it. 

Gasping, licking his lips, still all but vibrating on the spot, Dean raised his head to shout something when Balthazar gave him a little wink.

“Your turn,” he murmured, and Dean had a whole list of things to say to that up to the point where Balthazar clicked his fingers and the block suddenly vanished, along with most of his strength, voice and ability to stay upright as Dean came so hard he felt like he was going to break. Fuck. _Fuck_. His vision all but blacked out as he shook, only a soft strangled squeak emerging before his body gave out and sagged downward. The bowl was swiftly removed and Cas had already withdrawn, concerned eyes on him as his angel gently guided him onto his side to recover. 

“You said he would not be harmed!” Cas hissed softly and angrily toward Balthazar as he gently tried to stroke over Dean’s body to calm his little shudders. 

“Ah, Cas, don’t worry. He’s fine, he’s just taking a breath.” 

Dean curled a little more, trying to find any scrap of strength left and finding his cupboards bare. He whimpered softly and was delighted to find that Cas was lying next to him, spooning up with an arm wrapped around his chest to hold him. Finding enough energy to squirm up closer to him, Dean sighed softly and closed his eyes. Fuck, he was exhausted, his whole body throbbing lightly and still so painfully sensitive to touch. He could taste Balthazar’s come in his mouth and feel the gentle trickle of Castiel’s seed from his ass, and still had no idea how to handle it. Used or satisfied? Or both? Fuck knew. 

“I’ll go get the mixture done.” Balthazar murmured softly. “Get some food and drink in him when he’s feeling a bit more lively, okay? He’s probably running on empty.”

Castiel’s arm tightened around Dean’s chest protectively. “Understood.”

Dean himself was half asleep, his exhaustion comforted by Castiel’s warmth and closeness. Through his daze he was conscious of Cas’ light kisses on his neck and shoulder, the way that his legs hooked over his own and Castiel’s own scent which seemed to lean more toward a light vanilla than the honey musk that Balthazar seemed to favour. 

“Are you okay?” Castiel murmured in his ear, and Dean smiled sleepily at the clear concern in his voice. Speaking, on the other hand, was an effort he wasn’t sure he could do.

“...mm-mm,” he acknowledged softly. 

“Would you like me to restore some of your energy?” still anxious, a little hint of uncertainty. Dean stretched and settled back again, a small shake of the head. No, he liked this. Sure, his body felt like it had been wrung clean of any strength whatsoever, but it was a good exhaustion, the type that came from finishing a marathon or achieving whatever the physical goal was, and quite frankly it also came with a great excuse of why Cas was wrapped around him now. Yeah, he was happy to let it come back gradually and then he could think on all the stuff he needed to cringe about. For now, sleepy.

Dean’s hand moved to rest on Castiel’s, and he felt the angel relax behind him at the touch. Past that point he lost a few hours as he slipped into a doze, only waking a little while later at a noise in the room and the fact that the hard wooden floor was beginning to make some of his joints ache. 

Blinking, still sleepy, he looked up into a brighter room where Balthazar had opened the blinds and allowed some of the light to filter through from the new day. The candles had gone and so had the floor pattern, the disco ball still slowly rotating and sending little mirrored flashes across the room. Balthazar himself was settled in a padded armchair set in the corner, reading a newspaper with a glass of something seemingly alcoholic sitting next to him on a table. Castiel, of course, was still wrapped around him protectively, and Dean enjoyed that sensation for a moment before looking back at Balthazar warily.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” the angel didn’t look up from his paper, his voice mild.

Dean tried his voice, and thankfully found it still present. “No. And I don’t want anything, either.”

“What you want and what you need are two different things,” Balthazar advised, and waved a finger in a more dramatic fashion. A glass of orange juice appeared close enough for Dean to take hold of it. “You need fuel. Drink. And once you’ve had that I suspect your body will demand something solid. Food wise, anyway.”

Dean shifted. “Did the spell work? Did you get what you needed?”

“Of course. I’m not an amateur in this.” Eyes finally lifted from the paper to give him a faintly disapproving look, before turning back to the sheets again. “It’s prepared and I took the liberty of carrying it out. He’s fine, but he’s similar to you when it comes to energy levels. He’s sleeping now, all tucked in and cozy. I would say ‘don’t worry’, but that is probably the same as asking a cat not to chase mice.”

A wave of relief through him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Another little look. “I’m assuming everything’s fine? Everything’s working?”

“Nothing appears to have dropped off.” Dean shifted again. “Although you gave it a damned good go.”

“No point in doing anything if you’re not prepared to do it well. Or at least sex related, anyway.” Balthazar remarked idly.

“So what _was_ it?”

“What was what? The spell?” Balthazar rolled his eyes at the persistence, then relented. “It’s a stubborn one, one of those spells that intend to suck the essence out of a person until they waste away. Solution involves passion, hence the fun. And, needless to say, the more angels involved, the more power it offers.”

Dean shifted again and was surprised to find no further evidence of the angel power in him. Balthazar chuckled softly.

“I suspect Castiel has resolved any soreness you might have had with his ..uh, contribution. Isn’t that right, Cas?”

“Of course,” Castiel sounded slightly irate at the suggestion he might not have done this. “I am aware I may have been a little rough.”

“I like a little rough,” Dean yawned sleepily.

“I think we’re moving back to what you want and what you need being two different things.” Balthazar advised. “Drink your orange juice before I decide to take you up on your ‘I like rough’ suggestion.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at him but drank the orange juice anyway. Groaning softly, he nuzzled further into Cas and closed his eyes again. The angel’s arm was warm and wrapped around him and he could feel Castiel’s breath on the back of his neck, and he was fairly certain every so often the light press of a kiss was given but that might just be his imagination. If they were on something that wasn’t a hard wooden surface then he’d vote for staying like this for at least a day-

“Uh. Dean?”

He didn’t need to look at the door to know that voice. Dean froze, eyes staring at Balthazar as he almost begged the angel to say it was one of his jokes and that his brother was still sleeping, but said angel was looking a little wary himself as he slowly lowered the paper.

“Sam. Good to see you’re up.”

There was a long silence. Dean didn’t dare roll over, and he felt Castiel’s arm tighten around him as there was a group effort to work out what to say. 

“Yeah..,” Sam sounded uncertain. “Uh. I have a few questions.”

Dean closed his eyes and willed himself to be somewhere else. Finally he felt Castiel move, the coolness of the air on his skin as it took the place of warm angel, and he groaned softly before rolling on his back. A back that was suddenly clothed, and oh god, thank fuck for angels and their magical clothing abilities.

“Hey, Sam.” he said as carelessly as he could whilst being on the floor in the middle of a ritual circle. “How are you feeling?”

Sam was looking ruffled, dark circles under his eyes and his hair a mess, but the look on his face was a confused frown. Castiel had managed to get himself both dressed and stood up in the corner, an unreadable expression on his face as he folded his arms and leaned against the wall in what was probably an idle way. 

His brother’s gaze moved from Dean to Balthazar to Castiel and then back again.

“Uh. Were you guys all naked a few moments ago?” he said cautiously.  
Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that. He could lie and pretend that the spell had done a number on Sam’s senses, but they’d done far too much lying in the past and anyway Balthazar might let the cat out of the bag anyway. However, a confirmation just added more questions onto an already large pile.

“Uh,” he said.

“I see.” Sam could translate Dean-ese pretty damned well. “And _why_ were you all naked, exactly?”

“Ritual.” Balthazar replied lazily from the corner. “No clothing allowed.”

“I see.” Sam repeated, slowly. “And we’re in your house _why_?”

“Because I’m the only one who could do the ritual, keep up Sam.” Balthazar looked at him as though he was crazy. “You were sick, you needed some help, we did a ritual, and now you’re up and talking and alive and isn’t that fantastic? That _is_ fantastic, isn’t it Dean?”

Dean confirmed that it was indeed fantastic, and slowly pushed himself off the floor. He offered a small, sheepish grin to Sam, but at least his brother was alive. Highly suspicious and alive, looking between him and Castiel and alive, giving him a particular ‘we will have words later on’ expression and alive, but alive nevertheless. 

“Okay.” Sam said softly. “Well. Thank you, I guess.”

“Although, on that note,” Dean added carefully. “We probably have to get going. You know, people to save, things to hunt… If you could possibly take us back to the car..?”

Cas gave a little nod from the corner and moved forward, tilting his head toward Balthazar before vanishing. And even before they went, Balthazar could still see Sam mouthing to Dean not to relax as they were going to have a little chat later on regarding the whole business.

The angel chuckled to himself as he sipped a new cocktail he’d just whipped up. Ah, the Winchesters might be a pain in the ass but every so often they were quite entertaining. 

And Cas really did owe him for that ritual suggestion. 

END


End file.
